


Static

by Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness



Series: Tainted grace [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression brought on by being tortured, Gabriel Deserves Better, Graphic Depictions of Torture, Probably not a good idea to read this if you have depression or are just in a bad place, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, did I mention torture?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness/pseuds/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness
Summary: A short fic from Gabriel's POV while he's being held by Asmodeus.  As you might guess, it is dark; if thoughts of worthlessness and depression bother you, don't read this.  I'm sorry, Gabriel fans, but this will be part of a series and I promise it will get better from here.





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also for Supernatural One-Word Bingo. The one-word prompt was, 'Static.'

Gabriel knew he was in trouble when he could only see **static** on the TV in his head. No more Dr. Sexy, M.D. No more Crime by Night. Not even a bad reality TV show or a weird Japanese game show to watch. His imagination could no longer help him ignore the pain, the humiliation, of what he was going through, and he was seeing static as a result. His torment had lasted decades, maybe centuries at this point--he wasn't sure--and he was getting close to his breaking point. 

Earlier that week--month?--Assclowneus had taken great joy in putting out Gabriel's eyes and bursting his eardrums. His eyes and ears would heal, eventually, but in the meantime he was unable to see or hear what was coming. It left him in a state of pure, unadulterated terror, because the pain could come in any form at any time. You didn't realize how much you relied on your senses for information about what was going on around you until they were gone. Perhaps his mind was only showing him static now because he was using too much energy on the senses that were left to him, somehow trying to _feel_ or _taste_ his tormentor coming, as if that were even possible. His mouth wasn't sewn shut yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Curled on his side on the cold metal floor so his chains didn't dig into his wrists, ankles, or neck, Gabriel felt tears fall from his ruined eyes. If only his father still cared. If only anyone cared. He was billions of years old, and he had to face the fact that no one in this entire universe would lift a finger to rescue him--even if they had known he had been captured, which they didn't. He thought about his brothers. Michael and Raphael would probably just tell him that it was his fault he'd ended up Asmodeus' prisoner, and leave him there. Lucifer...Lucifer likely had his own problems to deal with and, even if he didn't, could care less what Gabriel was going through. They'd all be angry if they knew about the grace draining, but they'd be angry that it was being done to another archangel, not to _him_. Nobody cared about _him_. Kali and his other lovers had only liked him because of the power he'd had. The Winchesters...his sense of hope pricked up its proverbial ears. The boys were stupid enough to do something insane like try to rescue him, but...nah. They'd needed him to stop Lucifer; they didn't actually _care_ about him, and they had no need of him now. Besides, they thought he was a doornail. 

Gabriel's thoughts were spiraling, as they often did when he was left alone for a time. He began to wonder if he deserved this. After millennia of putting assholes in their place, maybe he did. Maybe he was the asshole, and Asmodeus was just a manifestation of the phrase, 'what goes around, comes around.' How many people had he killed, pretending to be Loki? It certainly wasn't what his father had created him to do. Most humans would be shocked if they knew an angel was going around doing what he had done. So, maybe this was his fault. Maybe he deserved everything that Asmodeus put him through. He was a worthless piece of shit--why had he ever felt otherwise? Because he was powerful? You could still be powerful and be a worthless piece of shit--the old gods and his brothers had proved that, over and over again. 

He hadn't ever been able to do anything right. Gabriel had always run away, from Heaven, from responsibility, from...everything. Maybe this was what he was always running toward; maybe if he had made the right choices, he wouldn't have ended up here, a prisoner in shackles on a cold floor, without power, without even sight or sound. His father had made a huge mistake when he made him; Gabriel had never used his grace for anything worthwhile. Hell, a demon was using his grace to do more good than he ever had in his life--regardless of what the demon was doing with it. 

Gabriel continued to cry, not able to hear his own sobs, but feeling the tears and snot run down his face. They mixed with the blood and vomit that was already there. He was worthless, he was disgusting, and there was only static for company.


End file.
